


Baby of mine

by Raine_on_me



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Baby Mickey Milkovich, GW2018, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 11:38:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15000101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raine_on_me/pseuds/Raine_on_me
Summary: It's apparently gallavich week, day five was for family so here's a song fic





	Baby of mine

**Author's Note:**

> It's apparently gallavich week, day five was for family so here's a song fic

 

_Baby mine, don't you cry._   
_Baby mine, dry your eyes._   
_Rest your head close to my heart,_   
_Never to part,_   
_Baby of mine._

Momma Milkovich, rocked her crying boy in her arms. She made a family, with a man she was in love with; the problem was he was more in love with a bottle. But that wasn't always the way, she had fallen in love with a decent man, an ambitious man, and a man with some demons that he kept under control and very well hidden.

It was sometime after they had Iggy, and she knew she was pregnant with Mickey that she noticed the change. That the stress of a family was getting to her husband. The stress of working, bills, diapers and screaming babies. He found reasons not to be around, to not care for them. His smile that she fell in love with was gone. He was gone.

After Mickey was born things just escalated. His drinking got heavier, his inability to talk to the children like chlidren. He talked and treated them like tiny adults who were screwing up his life, that lead to more yelling, cursing and throwing and breaking things.

She made a promise to herself she'd be there for those babies. Sometimes being there wasn't enough. Being there to be the face of his rage so he'd beat her and not them.But there was fire in his belly, something that made him terrorize the house.

Mama Milkovich rocked her son, three years old with bruises on his arm, resting his head on her chest she hummed to him until he fell asleep. Sometimes she wasn't sure if she sang it for him or for herself.

_Little one, when you play;_   
_Don't you mind what they say._   
_Let those eyes sparkle and shine,_   
_Never a tear,_   
_Baby of mine._

Mickey had the fairest skin, and brightest eyes, she saw the beauty in them, the life he could have, should have. She also watched as that hope faded.

School wasn't easy for her children, but every time they'd come home crying, beaten or scared she's tell them not to worry, to be brave, that they were stronger than they believed and could fight any monsters that tried to harm them.

And maybe she meant to or maybe it was the product of living in that house. But her words translated into Mickey never shedding a tear. He did become stronger, he never again came home from school scared. When the lights went out at home he was still small and weak compared to Terry, he still sought shelter in his mother's arms. She continued to sing him back to sleep.

_If they knew sweet little you_   
_They'd end up loving you too._   
_All those same people who scold you;_   
_What they'd give just for the right to hold you._

Maybe she was just hopeful that telling her children that even though Terry raised a hand to them, thar he still loved them. Maybe it was a lie she told herself to be able to sleep at night. To stay when she couldn't find a way to leave. How could she leave? Here she had a roof over their heads, and food on the table if she ever did manage to leave they'd be homeless and starving. She fully believed if they left Terry would find them and kill her.

Sweet, wasn't a word people would use to describe a Milkovich, especially Mickey. Any goodness he had left it was gone when he came home and she was gone. Terry never admitted to killing her but Mickey knew that's why she was gone, she wouldn't have left them, she wouldn't have left him.

But after everyone was gone he went to the empty grave and hummed their song. "What I'd give just for the right to hold you" he tried to carry the melody, the words getting chocked up in his throat.

_From your head down to your toes,_   
_You're not much, goodness knows._   
_But you're so precious to me,_   
_Sweet as can be,_   
_Baby of mine._

Mickey remembered getting the song stuck in his head, the one his mother would sing to him, the one that he loved; Mickey didn't throw around that word like kids today who 'omg love that jacket it's tots adorbs' he only saved that word for true and important things.

On occasion he'd play part of the song on repeat the part where 'he's not much', the part that would morph out of her voice and memory and into Terry's. In very beating, in very thing he said or didn't Mickey heard how much he wasn't worth.

Mickey missed with all his heart belonging to someone, someone who could see behind the tough thug, like his mother. But she was gone now, no one left to be his shining light, his goodness. Until he met Ian.

_All of those people who scold you,_   
_What they'd give just for the right to hold you._

Mickey looked down at the small fair haired child he finally had the courage to hold. Mickey was left alone with the bundle of helpless, fragile, at times really fucking loud, but maybe a little cute in a look like an old man baby kind of way.

He never thought about being a dad, now all he could see while he looked into the baby's eyes was himself; the self he was and the versions of himself he could be.

The version where he's just like Terry not qualified to take care of a child, who wants nothing to do with him. Where he's have to hustle for every damn dollar just for it to go to the kid and eventually grow to resent the child for needing basic human things.

Or the version of himself; and the more likely version was he'd stop hustling, get a real job and love and protect this baby with every fiber of his body.

He wasn't going to be Terry he wasn't going to lift a finger to harm this child. But he would have to be restrained if anyone laid a hair on this child's head.

He hated that it took him this long to look at the child let alone hold him. His whole world fit in his arm. How was that even possible?

_From your head down to your toes_   
_You're not much, goodness knows._   
_But you're so precious to me,_   
_Sweet as can be,_   
_Baby of mine._

He wondered how something so small, so useless, could fill a heart so much. How looking into those closed eyelids as Yev fell asleep. How perfect this little mistake had made his life, sure he had to deal with Svetlana. But it also gave him a deeper connection with Ian. They had survived something so ugly with Terry finding them, having Mickey make Yev infront of Ian. Now they we're going to be a family.

They didn't have much, but they had each other and Mickey knew as long as he had that, it would be enough.

_Baby of mine_


End file.
